


Papcest Collection

by Askellie (NadaNine)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Drugged Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadaNine/pseuds/Askellie
Summary: A collection of ficlets for the 12 Days of Papcest Challenge.





	Papcest Collection

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: Implied Cash+Slim (one-sided but not nessesarily unreciprocated), dub/noncon prostitution, dub/noncon drugging, rape of a drugged victim, violence, non-major character death.

“What do ya mean, he’s busy?” Cash asked, leaning dangerously on the last word.

Muffet’s expression didn’t even flinch. Unfortunately his reputation didn’t carry over to this universe, or she might have had reason to look more worried. “He’s working, dearie. Paying off his debts.”

The words twisted painfully in his soul. He knew he shouldn’t intervene. Slim hadn’t asked him to, and no Fell-verse monster liked accumulating more debts, but-

“How much?” he asked through gritted teeth.

There was a calculating glitter in Muffet’s eyes as they regarded him, blinking in hypnotic sequence. He stared unflinchingly back, although the figure she named made a light sweat break out between his vertebrae. Not because he didn’t have the money but, _fuck_ , he hated spending it. Money was power. Money was safety. Money was the answer to so many different problems, and he hoarded every piece of gold and favour owed just waiting for the day the universe decided to fuck him over.

But this was Slim, and even though the calculating corner of his mind could come up with a more ruthless figure of what his alternate’s life was worth to him (and it was far less than Muffet’s price) he reached grudgingly into his inventory and counted out the gold. A few pieces got sifted through her many hands, testing the weights, and a couple ended up dented from her fangs to ensure they were real gold. He couldn’t blame her suspicion. He always did the same.

“Final door on the left,” she told him, sliding the generous pile of coins into her lap. Their musical tinkling rang sweetly in Cash’s skull, and he had to resist the sudden and violent urge to snatch at them. He kept his tightly clenched fingers deep in his pocket. “If you kill one of my paying customers, I’m adding it to his tab, not yours.”

He muttered a grudging agreement under his breath, stalking past her. A little dust might have helped to expiate the sick feeling of loss over the gold, but he didn’t want to see Muffet again if he could help it. 

The backstage of Muffet’s parlour was dim and full of spider webs; a thousand watching eyes to report back to her should anything go awry. He ignored the soft chitters around him, tasking long, determined strides towards the door Muffet had directed him to and unceremoniously kicked it open.

For a moment, regarding the scene in front of him, Cash was blinded by shades of unfamiliar fury and was tempted to ignore Muffet’s directive and kill the dirty mother fucker who hadn’t so much as paused in his filthy activities. His bulky body was blocking Cash’s view, but the rhythmic, obscene squelch of his motions broadcast the glee with which he was violating Slim’s body. Slim himself lay pliant. His sockets were open, but his eyelights where hazed and empty; drugged senseless. He wasn’t sure if that was for the client’s safety, or a kindness of Muffet’s to make the process easier on her workers, but either way seeing Slim lifeless, helpless, made magic surge up violently in Cash’s socket. His vision blazed with purple sparks, and with a guttural snarl he turned the unknown monster’s soul blue and threw him viciously into the nearest wall. His fingers trembled with the urge to follow up with another flurry of blows (smash him into the ceiling, drop him to the floor, let him land on a bed of spikes) but without his attacker’s body covering him, Slim lay naked, exposed, foreign come splattered between his femurs, and that was a much more distressing issue to attend to. 

“Hey there, Puppy,” he cooed, keeping his tone soft and even despite the profanities that threatened to well up like bile. “How about you come home with me and we get you cleaned up, huh?”

“Who the hell-?!” the monster on the floor bleated, attempting to scramble to his feet, but with a negligent wave of his hand Cash pounded his soul back against the floor, knocking the breath out, and thankfully the words, of him. 

Slim’s head turned by the slightest of increments, sockets still wide and uncomprehending, but he must have been dimly aware of the change in his environment because he let loose a little whine of sound that almost broke Cash’s heart. 

“Yeah, I think a hot bath and a good sleep will do you a world of good,” Cash said, hoping the familiar rambling might penetrate and offer some small measure of comfort. He glanced around, looking for anything Slim might have worn, but there was no sign of his coat or the usual layers of red and black he used to fill out his delicate frame. The sheet was filthy, but for the sake of modesty it would have to work. He deftly wrapped it around Slim’s scarred ribs, securing it with extra emphasis around his slender hips to cover up the infuriating scratches across his illium. 

“That’s right, we’re going home,” he soothed, his voice nearly managing to cover Slim’s pitiful, lost-sounding whimpers as he scooped the other skeleton into his arms. Cash wasn’t all that strong, but neither was Slim very heavy, not even as dead-weight. It would be a manageable carry until he could make it back to the machine.

Because that was most definitely what he meant by home. Not Slim’s home, where his self-absorbed brat of a brother hadn’t even noticed Slim’s absence until the third day. Not in this shitty universe, where Slim had to sell his own body to make sure there was food on his brother’s plate. Fuck that. If Slim had objections, he could make them when he was sober enough and strong enough to fight Cash off. Until then, Cash was keeping him.

(And the part of him that had been sore about the gold he’d had to hand over to Muffet warmed slightly at the idea of it. Money was nice and favours were useful, owning someone -- owning Slim, even as a temporary measure of intervention -- was appealing in all sorts of ways he probably shouldn't think about too deeply.)

“H-hey!” The grating shout gave Cash pause right as he was about to pass the threshold of the door. Against his better judgement, he glanced back. Muffet’s customer looked disheveled, petulant with disappointment and confusion. “I wasn’t finished!”

Cash considered this for a moment, then, with great precision and intent, summoned up several thick spires of bone to impale the despicable creature from below. To hell with it; he could pay Muffet an extra hundred gold on his way out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I still have a few request slots left open, so if you [wanna request some Papcest](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/374002) then hit me up! 8D


End file.
